


things you said when it wasn't enough

by pinkmanite2 (Pinkmanite)



Category: James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 04:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14634558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkmanite/pseuds/pinkmanite2
Summary: Q doesn’t cry. He’s not the type to cry.





	things you said when it wasn't enough

**Author's Note:**

> hi this may or may not be crossposted on tumblr (baewhishaw), I'm just moving things over to AO3 for safekeeping ♡

Q thinks it surreal, how the world comes crashing down around him and everything just stops, suspended indefinitely in time. 

It’s like the world freezes and every movement, every detail, is painfully present, forcefully scratching itself into Q’s critical memory. His heart rises to his throat and threatens to spill all its hopes, dreams, and sorrows unto the floor in a melodramatic disarray. But Q doesn’t cry. He’s not the type to cry, not the type to get emotional. Never angry, never sad. 

And apparently, never happy.

“You know,” Q manages, barely above a whisper, his voice cracking at the end. His whole being shakes with the threat of something… not quite rage, not quite sorrow, but something intense and something startling real. 

He doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t dare meet James’s eyes. He lets delicate chestnut curls fall over his face, shielding him from the ice blue that threatens to pierce his soul even further. 

“You know,” he starts again, firmer this time, stabilizing, "someone once said that love is giving someone the ability to destroy you but trusting that they won't.”

“Q, I never--”

“No, Double-O Seven,” he spits, “let me finish.”

Q pauses for a moment to recompose himself and James lets him. Keeps his mouth shut and his composure patient. Q, however, runs his hand through his hair in frustration as if it’ll keep the shaking at bay, as if it’ll get him to see clearly, as if it’ll make this all go away. 

As if it’ll change his feelings for James Bond. 

“I once believed those words reflected the rawest truth of the idea of love. But I can no longer say that I wholly agree.  Because maybe I can say I loved-- _ love _ \--you, James Bond, but I inevitably ended up destroying myself. Because I gave you power with the knowledge it could be perfectly well unrequited. Perhaps it’s not so much that  _ you  _ destroyed  _ me _ . Perhaps it’s that  _ I  _ allowed my own destruction by giving in to a fantasy that I can never have. That no one can ever have. Because the James Bond in my head? Perhaps he never did exist.”

“I’m sorry, Q, but I’m just not that kind of man,” James says gently, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“And I shouldn’t have expected you to be.”

 


End file.
